


Murderme.com

by S_Oliver



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, F/M, M/M, Murder, Rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-09 06:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Oliver/pseuds/S_Oliver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek meet on a site called MurderMe.com. Updated Last: 5/3/13</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Thread: Killing for Pleasure**  
——————————————————————  
 **HaleReign: Favorite way to kill?**  
 **——————————————————————**

Stiles leans back into his computer chair, taking another drink from his half empty brandy glass. He runs his ring finger over the rim and thinks for a second.

There was Margery, ah yes, Margery. Never before had Stiles seen someone bleed so much. Stiles remembers the way he fucked his knife inside of her, piercing her abdomen and then how hard he got when blood poured from her stomach onto his shoes.

Then there was Frank, who Stiles didn’t want to kill, but after he pulled out of his ass with shit on his dick, well, Stiles wouldn’t have any of that. Luckily he always carries a knife on his person and a quick flip of a blade, Stiles fucked him into death with a knife in the man’s neck.

Violet was a good kill too. Stiles thinks. He remembers how she screamed for her mother as Stiles cut her chest open. Stiles was able to clip through three of her ribs before she passed out from the pain, and even removed her entire chest cage and watched her heart beat in her chest.

Yea, Violet. Lets go with her.  
 **  
———————————————-  
Stilinsking: My favorite kill was done with medical tools I took from my best friend’s mother’s hospital. A scalpel and a bolt cutter, to be exact. I found a beautiful girl and I cut her chest open, she stayed conscious even as I broke through her third and fourth ribs. She did eventually pass out but I was able to remove her entire chest cage and watch her heart beat before gently slicing it and watching her blood pour into her surrounding organs.**  
  
 **It was mesmerizing.**  
———————————————-  
  
Stiles sits back and waits for a reply. He pulls out a cigar from his pocket and chews on the end. Fuck Scott for giving him this bad habit, almost as bad as wanting to slice into someone while he fucks them.  
  
Almost.  
—————————————-  
 **HaleReign: My favorite kill was when my ex-girlfriend and I had a threesome with a prostitute. My girlfriend thought it would be hot if we got a little rough, but a slap turned into a punch and the next thing I know I’m beating this whores face into the bed.**  
  
 **My girlfriend fucked me onto of her body. It was my first kill.**  
——————————————-  
  
Stiles smiles at his computer screen and drops his hands to the bulge in his pants.  
——————————————-  
 **Stilinsking: Dude, that’s so hot. Any others?**

——————————————-

 


	2. Chapter 2

Derek smirks and clicks into the text box.

————————-  
 **HaleReign: Max. Max was my second favorite kill. I had been drinking that night and my girlfriend had gone out of town on business, so of course I found other ways to occupy my time. Max was this beautiful blonde boy from a strip club down town, big muscles, firm body, everything I lusted for when Mindy wasn’t home.**  
  
 **So of course I hire him, I lure him back to my house with promises of money and a $100 down payment. He comes without a second thought.**

**I had planned this out, even in my half drunk stooper I had set up an elaborate trap for him. We entered my house, and went back to my bed.**

**I always keep curare in a syringe for situations like this. I refine it myself to ensure full muscular paralysis.**   
—————————  
  
Derek adjusts himself in his seat as he continues to write, he wipes the seat from his forehead as his mind is filled with the images of his kill.

—————————  
 **HaleReign: (cont) After taking him to my bed, I stuck him in the ass and watching him leap up and scream. He thought it was heroine and kept saying, he wasn’t like that, running for the nearest exit.**  
  
 **He didn’t make it past the bedroom door before his muscles gave in, gravity pulling him down until he was a mess of bones and muscle on my floor.**  
  
 **I picked him up, watched his eyes follow me as I carried him downstairs into my basement. There I laid him on a home-made metal gurney.**  
  
 **You see, I love Grey’s Anatomy. Especially Christina she’s my favorite, and I’ve always wanted to be a cardiothoracic surgeon just like her.**  
  
 **So tonight, I was going to be.**  
—————————  
  
Stiles bites his bottom lip and he takes another drink from his brandy glass. The room is getting hot so he goes to open a window before HaleReigns next post. It’s like reading a book, a good book. Stiles thinks.  
  
 **—————————**  
 **HaleReign: I stared with an incision just above his collar bone. His breathing picked up and I watched him cry as I moved my blade down his chest. He was hairless, shaved, like the panzy that he was, but that made it easier for me.**

**Once my Y incision was made I thought it might be best to start an IV of coagulants to slow the bleeding and small doses of acetylsalicylic acid in order to lower his blood pressure. I wanted to make sure he didn’t die before I could remove what I wanted.  
**

**The first organ I went for was the liver. I had my father’s medical text book next to me that explained the general idea of removing certain organs. It wasn’t as hard as I thought, with my wood burning knife I was able to cauterize any loose ends. And before I knew it I had extracted his liver.**   
  
**And he was still awake.**   
**—————————**


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles pulls on the collar of his shirt and licks his lips. Whoever this guy was, he was living his dream. Stiles has killed only five people, and never had it been this intricate, this intimate, this beautiful before.

**———————**   
**Stilinsking: And then what?**   
**———————**   
**HaleReign: Max’s resolution to stay alive was admirable. Even in the shadow of me holding his liver over him, showing him the different parts, showing him where blood entered, where it was filtered, where it left. The psychological shock alone would leave most people unconscious, let alone the fact that curare doesn’t dull the senses. He felt every cut, every slice, every tear. He felt me burn his blood back into his body, felt me stuff him full of gauze to limit the bleeding.**

**He felt every inch of what I did to him, and yet he still looked me in the eye as I walked around the room, eyes wet with his tears.**

**I wondered what to do next. It had taken me almost an hour to cut into his liver without killing him, and I knew he didn’t have another hour left. I thought maybe a kidney? But that would require closing him up and flipping him over.**

**So instead I figured I would reward him for his tolerance to pain, for this tolerance to trauma and torture. I removed his pants and disgusting underwear, stained from hours of misuse, but I did my best to ignore it.**   
  
**——————-**

Stiles drops his hands to his pants and undoes his zipper. He pulls his cock out through his jeans and breaths heavily. He continues reading.

**——————-**   
**HaleReign: I took his penis into my hand and I gave it a few quick squeezes. Even in all the pain he was in, he still twitched and throbbed. I stroked the underside of his cock and soon enough he was fully hard**

**I took some lubricant from the shelf and I applied it to him, stroking him softy. I felt him throb harder and harder as I stroked him faster. This was the only time he looked away from me. Too ashamed to feel pleasure for his torturer.**

**The heart monitor I had hooked up started to race, and I watched his blood pressure climb even against the grain of the drugs I gave him. I watched as blood started to seep through the gauze packed in his chest.**

**I stroked him faster and faster, watched him bleed more and more, his heart beat quicker and quicker, until he came all over my hand. I watched his skeletal chest rise and fall with his contractions, felt him pulse as he oozed cum from his cock head, and as his climax fell from his cock, his mind fell from his body, and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.**

**Blood loss finally got the best of him, and he died, right then.**

**—————-**

Stiles strokes himself faster and he bites his bottom lip, he bucks his hips into his sweaty hand and he moans loudly as he comes. He shoots against his shirt and stomach, feeling his balls pull against him, flooding through his cock.

Stiles brings his hand to his lip and sucks the come off of his thumb before returning his gaze to the computer monitor.

**—————-**

**HaleReign: Well, I’m going to bed. Send me a PM the next time you get a nice kill Stilinsking. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles wakes up the next day to find their entire threat flooded with replies and comments about HaleReign’s murder. Some people sharing their own stories, some obvious fakers who don’t know the difference between an artery and a vein. Stiles was sad to see that Hale didn’t post anything new since last night.

 ***beep***  
  
Stiles looks at the top right hand corner of his screen and sees a little mail icon with a star beside it. He double clicks it.

**—————**   
**HaleReign: Hey.**   
**—————**

Stiles heartbeat begins to quicken.

**————-**   
**Stilinsking: Hiya.**   
**————-**   
**HaleReign: Where do you live?**   
**————-**   
**Stilinsking: Why? So you can murder me?**   
**————-**   
**HaleReign: Negative, so I can murder with you.**   
**————-**

Stiles bites his lip.

 **————**  
 **Stilinsking: How do I know this isn’t a trap?**  
 **————**  
 **HaleReign: I’ll prove it to you.**  
 **————**  
 **Stilinsking: How?**  
 **————**  
 **HaleReign: Tonight, 7 o’clock news. Watch it.**  
 **————**  
 **Stilinsking: Lol, okay.**  
 **————**  
  
Stiles scoffs and wonders what Hale could have meant. He looks at the clock, 8:00AM, he has work soon.

Stiles spends the rest of his day stocking shelves at his local walmart. To say life after high school wasn’t kind to him would have been an understatement. After the death of his father Stiles didn’t have the money to go to college, so he saved his father’s life insurance money instead and invested it. He figures he can make good working a part time minimum wage job and dipping into the savings only when he needs.

Giving him time to plan his next kill.

Stiles gets home that night around five and waits around. No new messages from HaleReign, so he figures maybe it was all a big joke.

7:00

Stiles turns on the news and sees the news anchor talking to a kitten. A kitten. Was this the big message that Hale was trying to send? Stiles loves animals, don’t mistake that, but he doubts Hale set this -

“And now to our breaking story. A young man was found dead this afternoon in the back alley of a club. The woman who found him, Elizabeth Runes, says that he was mutilated in the most gruesome way she had ever seen. She is currently seeking psychological evaluation at the local hospital.

Officers on the scene describe this as a string of out of state murders that pathed this direction. Citizens are furious that they were not informed.   
  
We now have a press conference with the BHPD, sherrif, Derek Hale.”

_Hale._

“Please know that we are doing everything we can to find this killer.” Derek says into the camera. “We know he is about my height and weight and very similar to my build. We’re looking for someone who works out often and who has a medical degree. If anyone knows anything about these murders please contact us at 555-989-0311 Thank you.”

Stiles smiles into his glass of Bradny.

“You little shit.” He thinks. He walks back to his computer and waits, only about fifteen minutes later does he get a new message.

**————**   
**HaleReign: Did you see?”**   
**————**   
**Stilinsking: I did, but what if I turned you in right now?**   
**————**   
**HaleReign: My computer routes through twenty IPs before reaching MurderMe.com, in addition I’ve covered virtually all of my tracks and you know my status in this community after your father died.**   
**————**

Stiles leans back into his chair. Derek Hale. The kid who lost everything when he was a child who became the shining light of Beacon Hills after he saved a little girl from a burning building and became elected Sheriff.

 **———-**  
 **Stilinsking: So how do you wanna do this?**  
 **———-**  
 **HaleReign: Lets meet up first. Then we can talk specifics.**  
 **———-**  
 **Stilinsking: When and where?**  
 **———-**  
 **HaleReign: Tomorrow at the Nuave at 8PM, ask for the Hale table. We can have a private conversation.**  
 **———-**  
  
Stiles sighs and finishes the rest of his brandy before shaking his head.  
 **———-**  
 **Stilinsking: Okay, I’ll see you then.**  
 **———-**


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles walks up to the five star restaurant wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Derek may have invited him to the ritziest place in town but he didn’t say he had to dress up.

Stiles steps through the door and walks up to the headwaiter who looks him over and smirks.

“I think you’ll find McDonalds is that way.” The man says and points out the door.

Stiles glares.

“I was told to ask for the Hale table.” He says.

The man’s eyes widen and he nods his head. “I apologize, you must be Stiles. Please, come with me.” Stiles follows him to the back of the restaurant and through a small door into a private room. There Derek sits at a table with a small steak in front of him, the headwaiter points to the chair opposite of him and leaves.

“So, Stiles. I’m glad you could make it.” Derek says.

Stiles nods and sits down.

“Would you like some wine?” Derek asks. Stiles shakes his head before leaning back in his chair.

“So, did you know it was me the whole time?” Stiles asks.

Derek laughs and puts down his fork.

“Of course. ‘Stilinsking?’” he mocks. “You’re kind of the only person with that last name.”

Stiles smiles to hide his embarrassment.

“Don’t worry.” Derek reassures, “You remember Violet? The woman you told me about?”

Stiles nods.

“I already knew you killed her. I’ve known for years but being the Sheriff, I hid some evidence that pointed your way.”

Stiles’ mouth drops open and he puts his elbows on the table.

“You see, Stiles, I’ve been watching you kill for some time. I’ve been fascinated with it, really. You could say I’m a… fan or sorts.”

Stiles nods but is having a hard time following.

“Ever since Mindy left me, I’ve been looking for a replacement. Someone who I could trust to cut and carve with me. Someone who had refined taste in sexuality and primal urges, someone who could invest their blood with mine as we dined at the last supper.”

Derek cuts a piece of his steak and takes a bite, he closes his eyes and chews slowly as if the flavor was the only thing relevant at that point.

“Flesh. The basis of all life. Carbon, oxygen, hydrogen, all bonded into amino acids and proteins which form cells and tissue and organs. It’s so… deliciously beautiful.”

Derek holds out his fork, a cut of meat hanging from the prongs.

“Would you like a bite?” He asks.

Stiles looks hesitant but he slowly indulges and wraps his lips around the fork. The flavor explodes in his mouth as he pulls the meat off the metal.

“Yes, it’s delicious isn’t it?” Derek rhetorically asks, “A wonderful marinade that I developed myself, and the meat, can you tell what it is?”  
  


Stiles shakes his head while still chewing.

“My latest mark, Anthony.” Derek admits.

Stiles swallows and his eyes dart left and right.

“You mean I just ate-“

“Human?” Derek cuts off, “Yes, yes you have, and you took it better than most. Most seem to notice the odd texture but you… you just accepted it.”

Stiles takes a nearby glass full of water and chugs it down before meeting Derek’s eyes.

“What? You think dirty swine or bovine taste as delicious as the flesh of a human bone?” Derek asks, “You think you can get that _flavor_ from a chicken or a fish?”

Stiles’ mouth hangs open as Derek cuts into the meat again.

“Would you like another bite?” Derek offers, smiling.

Stiles stares at the meat and takes a deep breath.

Before opening his mouth and wrapping his lips around the meat once more.

“Yes, this is going to be the start of something wonderful, Stiles. Something absolutely grand.”


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles doesn’t dream that night, well he does, but its not really a dream. It’s more of a fantasy. He’s naked, walking through the woods on a warm summer day. His body sheds a layer of sweat as the sunlight bakes his back.

He smells something, something delicious. Something warm and bitter, he walks farther through the trees, leaves and twigs crunching under his feet.

He hears crunching, like rocks on rocks and he enters a clearing. IN the middle of this clearing is a table with a tent over it, a man sits at the head.

“Ahh, Stiles.” The man says. “I’m glad you could join me.”

Stiles approaches the table and sits next to the man, someone so familiar.

The man offers him a bite of food and Stiles takes it without question.

“Stiles.” The man moans, “ _Stiles._ ”

Stiles takes another bite and another, soon he’s finished the man’s plate. The sun is setting now, bright in his eyes.

The man stands up and walks away, suddenly naked and covered in blood.

“Stiles.” The man moans again.

Stiles turns to the table and suddenly sees the body of his first kill. Eyes open, staring at the sky.

“You love him.” The body says.

Stiles nods and lowers his head on her breast.

“Let him love you back.”

Stiles feels an overwhelming sensation in his cock and cries into the bodies flesh before sinking his teeth into her delicate skin and feeling the blood rush over his tongue.

Stiles wakes in a sheet soaked with his own sweat, he feels the lingering quivers in his cock and he lifts his blanket to see a puddle of cum on his stomach, oozing down his side.

“Fuck.” he whispers, slamming his fists down against the bed.

——-

Derek doesn’t contact him again for a week. Stiles left the restaurant feeling dirty but refreshed. The weight of cooked man lingering in his belly. He walked home, needed to think, think about what Derek had asked, what he wanted, what he said.

When Stiles got home that night, he found his murderme.com account inactive. An email from Derek saying

“You can’t have this if we’re going to be working together.”

Stiles laughed so hard he almost spit out his brandy.

But now, a week later, Derek still hadn’t contacted him, and he was growing impatient

——-

.Stiles sits on the edge of his bed opening and closing his pocket knife, listening to some old fuck on CNN talk about the economy when his cell phone goes off.

He slides it up and sees a message from a blocked number.

“3rd and Weston, one hour. Back door is unlocked. Do not draw attention to yourself.”

Stiles smiles and bites his bottom lip and tosses his head back. It takes him a minute before he realizes he’s gripping the blade of his knife and blood is running down his fingers.

Stiles opens his hand and watches as a small pool of blood fills his palm. He stares at it for a second, watching the light reflect off of it, thinking about how much blood he might see tonight.

He drops his head and licks it up before running to the kitchen, wrapping his hand in gauze, and running out the door.

——-

11:59:58 Stiles turns the corner of 3rd and Weston to a large white house surrounded by a large metal fence. The lights are off and the road is empty.

He nonchalantly opens the gate as if he owns to place, as to not draw attention, and walks around the back of the house to the back door.

Stiles takes a deep breath and opens the door, the house is dark and empty. He closes the door behind him and sees a sign attached to the wall in front of him.

**< This way.**

Stiles walks in the direction of the sign and finds his way down a dark hallway. The only light reflected from walls of walls leading back the way he came.

He almost walks into the wall at the end of the hall and feels for an opening. His hand falls through another door way and he makes his way, blind, down the next hall. At the end, he sees a faint glow from under a door. He walks quickly towards it and opens it.

Stairs lead down to a basement and cool air rushes against his face. He slowly walks down the steps and sees plastic clear curtains hanging in a square like fashion in front of something obscured by their opacity.

Stiles notices the walls, covered in knifes and tools, pliers and rope. Alphabetized from the north to the south wall.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

Stiles turns around and sees Derek walk out from a back room, dressed in a polo and jeans. Stiles thinks he looks like a college frat boy.

“You want to be part of this?” Derek asks spreading his arms wide, gesturing to the room. “Do you want to do this with me?”

Stiles swallows and nods before licking his lips.

“Then you’ll have to prove yourself.” Derek says. He walks briskly past Stiles and pulls a curtain aside. Behind it is a man lying on a metal gurney, no older than twenty and bound by safety belts.

Derek turns and leans against the gurney.

Derek smirks and says, “To experience life, we must also experience death. It is the great closure of the world. Without it, we wouldn’t know what anything was, we’d have nothing to base the ‘light’ off of. You see, Stiles. You’ve already experienced the darkness, you know how to contrast this disgusting world against the true perfection that is death."

Derek steps away from the gurney and walks until he reaches Stiles. He places a hand under his chin and lifts his head until their eyes meet.

“You can control death, but can you control life?” Derek asks, looking from eye to eye. “To truly kill is to let your victim know what life is, but to teach is to control, and you must be adept.”

Stiles nods against Derek’s hand and Derek runs his thumb over Stiles’ lips.

“You must drain this body of four liters of blood without killing him. You may use any tools necessary, you must drain the blood continuously and by my satisfaction. Succeed, and you can become a part of me. Fail, and you’ll simply live up to the static expectation that you are not as smart or as innovative as you think you are.”

Stiles’ eyes widen.

“But that’s imposs -“

“You have four hours.” Derek interrupts, and he leaves into his back room, shutting and locking the door behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles hand quivers as he holds the blade. He lingers for a second, eyes darting at the large circular clock on the wall. He has four hours to drain four liters of blood and he has absolutely no idea how to do that and keep this man alive. His palms get sweaty and he wipes his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

The average male has about five liters of body in him, considering this male is neither overly tall nor consisting of an above average weight, he doesn’t have any blood in his muscles or fat to keep his blood pressure high enough to live.

The body takes eight weeks to completely regenerate blood cells, Stiles assumes he can’t harvest only the plasma which means that he’s royally fucked.

Even if he was able to replace the fluids in this man’s body, there wouldn’t be enough red blood cells to oxygenate his brain. He’d be dead within minutes.

Stiles rotates the scalpel in his hand and looks at the clock, he has three hours and forty five minutes left.

Stiles’ eyes dark back and forth over the man before an idea dawns on him.

Close the circulation.

The body needs 5 liters to fill its every vein, artery, and capillary, but if he was able to remove the legs and arms, he could close the circulation within the man’s abdomen, meaning he could harvest forty percent more blood before he died.

Stiles shakes his head and tries to do the math. He can harvest two safely and three pushes unconsciousness, but forty percent more is barely three liters.

Stiles notices a folder on the table beside him and picks it up. He realizes instantly that its the medical record or this man. Stiles skims over it reading the important parts.

John Aprits  
Age: 19  
Sex: Male

Blood Type: O Negative. Same as Stiles and his father.

Stiles tosses the folder back on the table and sighs. He runs his hands through his hair and his eyes dart at the clock again.

And then it dawns on him.

Stiles runs to the medical supply cabinet and finds what he needs before running back to the table. He gimmicks a crude device and pulls up a chair next to the man, and waits.

——-

Derek walks out of the back room at exactly four AM, a hot cup of coffee in his hand, he looks through the plastic curtains and sees two unmoving bodies. Derek pulls one curtain away and smiles.

Stiles is pale, extremely pale, with barely any coloring to his lips. His right arm is applying pressure to the fold of his left elbow. The man is still breathing but just as pale, and his respirations are weak and shaky.

Derek notices the glass cylinder marked and filled to four liters, pure dark blood filling the tank.

Derek takes a sip of his coffee and nods.

“You transfused your own blood into him while you took his own, didn’t you?” Derek asks.

Stiles nods weakly, readjusting his bandage.

“Did you feel it, Stiles?” Derek asks, “Did you feel the divinity as you poured your life into him?”

Stiles doesn’t look up.

“I see.” Derek replies, “No matter, you fulfilled the task. But I fear it wasn’t to my satisfaction.”

Stiles looks up in horror.

“You didn’t _feel_ it Stiles, you didn’t see what I see when I pour my life into my prey.” Derek explains.

Stiles bites his bottom lip.

“Maybe this was too much too soon? Maybe I overestimated what you could see in people?” Derek asks, ” How about omething simpler? Something more amateur?”

Stiles lowers his eyes and him and glares.

Derek takes notice and leans against the gurney, he swivels his nose over his coffee and takes a sip.

“Fire in those eyes.” Derek remarks. “I’ve known that fire. Watching my family burn. Do you know what my mother said to me as she gripped my hand from the basement window?”

Stiles doesn’t answer.

“She said, ‘Your fault, you bastard child. You fucking bastard child.’ And then the fire poured into the basement like water filling a fish tank and soon enough they were all submerged in their own sin.”

“You will continue until you get it right.” Derek says, “And only because I see a lot of me in you.”

“Next week be here, same time, and try to bring a little spiritualism with you? This world is dull if all we see in each other is star dust.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one isn't as long as the others. It's getting a bit difficult to write. I hope you enjoy it.

Stiles is what you would call a perfectionist with a win streak. The last time he can ever remember failing at something was when he was too young to understand the true meaning of the task in front of him, which hasn’t been since he was seven and didn’t understand the rules of hopscotch.

Needless to say, Stiles was broken in half over the disappointment in Derek’s eyes. He had hoped that his innovation had impressed Derek, and it had to some extent, but this “spirituality” that Derek talked about was as foreign as Korean or “love”.

Stiles spends the rest of his week studying, understanding. His google searches bring him to multiple serial killers who tried to find divinity and spirituality through their murders.

Stiles tried to pay attention to what he was reading, but the nonsense soon turned into a blatant mockery of what Stiles held dear. People writing about how these “murders” believed that a “deity” somehow respected them more for what they did, how they felt God through their murders.

Stiles takes a second to remember the way he felt when he killed. The adrenaline roaring through his veins, caustic and euphoric. The way his stomach knotted, the way he would stroke himself to completion with bloody palms and the scent of excrement still fresh in his nostrils.

No God, no deity, no divinity. Just the kill.

Stiles tries to understand, he does, but he ends up at the house again with no more understanding than he had the week before. He knows Derek will notice but he has no other option.

Stiles makes his way down the familiar dark corridor again and eases down the illuminated steps.

“Ahh, Stiles. Right on time.” Derek greets.

Stiles nods and awkwardly waves his hand. Derek points to a metal chair over at the wall for Stiles to sit in. Derek walks behind the clear curtains and Stiles twiddles his thumbs as he waits.

“Today,” Derek says behind the curtain, “I am going to show you life through death.”

Stiles winces at the though of disappointing Derek again.

“Don’t worry. I know you’re trying.” Derek says as if psychic, Stiles looks to the curtains and watches Derek emerge with a unconscious young boy. Stiles stands up and his metal chair screeches against the floor.

“A child?” Stiles asks.

Derek stops the gurney and crosses his arms. “A problem, Stiles?”

“Yeah I have a fucking problem. He’s just a boy!” Stiles yells.

“I fail to see your point.”

“No children.” Stiles says firmly. 

“Why?” 

“You know why!”

“No,” Derek argues, “Explain it to me.”

“Because he’s too young, he’s not old enough.”

“Old enough for what?”

“To deserve it!”

Derek walks to his table and gets a scalpel. He walks back to the boy and holds it to his chest. 

“Too young to die?” Derek asks, “Children die everyday, all over the world, just as adults do. Why should he be spared the beauty of our purification.”

Stiles clenches his fists and bares his teeth. He shakes his head and turns away.

“What is the point of purifying him,” Stiles says through his teeth, “If he’s already pure?”

There’s a moment of silence and Stiles hears a laugh.

“Issac!” Derek yells. Stiles turns around and watches a teenager run out from the back room.

“Yes, sir.” The boy says.

“Take this boy back to his parents.” Derek orders. Issac nods his head and lifts the boy off the gurney before walking up the stairs. He doesn’t even look at Stiles.

“Did you feel it?” Derek asks.

Stiles’s brow furrows and he points behind him towards the stairs.

“What the fuck?” 

“Stiles,” Derek says again, “Did you feel it?”

“Feel WHAT?” Stiles yells.

“The love you had for that child’s life.” Derek answers.

Stiles takes a step back.

“You irrationally fought for him. You had no logical explanation  yet you still continued to fight me.”

Stiles’ head shakes and he closes his eyes.

“That,” Derek explains, “That is God speaking through you. That guilt that you would never feel had he been ten years older, that passion to spare him. That’s not you, that’s Him.”

Stiles stares at Derek.

“You’ve impressed me. You’ve shown me you can critically think and you’ve shown me you have the mettle to handle what I have in store.”

Stiles sighs, “And what exactly is that?”

Derek smiles and pulls back the curtain, revealing a woman suspended by the ceiling, wire hanging from metal hooks wrapped around her ribs.

_“Her.”_


End file.
